


The Hat Affair

by spikesgirl58



Category: The Girl from UNCLE, The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:21:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All that fuss over a hat...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hat Affair

Suddenly, they were free of the building and moving away from it and towards safety.  Napoleon still wasn’t sure how it happened, but he didn’t care.  They were safe, if not without their share of bangs and bruises.

“My hat!” Mark suddenly jerked to full consciousness and his hand flew to his head.

“Forget it!”  April’s hair fell around her face, framing it.  She brushed it aside and winced as she touched raw flesh instead.  “I’ll buy you a new one.  I’ll buy you five new ones.”

Mark pulled away and took a staggering step towards the building they’d just broken out of.  “My hat,” he muttered, more to himself as if it were a mantra.

“I’ll go.”  Illya patted Mark on the shoulder and Napoleon caught Illya’s elbow as he passed.

“Are you crazy?  It’s going to go up any second now.”

“Napoleon, I was the one who set the timer, remember?  I know how long I have.  Besides, who’s going?  You?”  He looked at Napoleon’s ankle, already swollen twice its usual size.  

“You’re not exactly the picture of health, you know.”

“Compared to you I am.  Take care of them and I’ll be right back.”

The last thing Illya wanted to do was to return to that building.  His back and shoulders ached from having been chained to a wall.  He was light headed and incredibly thirsty, but he also understood Mark.

The memory came back to him as if a half-remembered dream.  They had been drinking and the topic had turned to family.  Usually UNCLE agents didn’t share, but the alcohol was flowing and so did the talk.

Mark had proudly held up his hat.  It had been his father’s.  One spring morning his father had plopped it on his head and laughed as it fell around Mark’s eyes.  

“You take care of your mother, Marky boy, and I’ll be back for my hat soon.”

Except he never returned.  Mark and his mother never did find out what happened, but Mark had taken his father’s last word as his life’s charge.  He kept that hat close, just as close as Illya kept his grandfather’s wedding ring.    They didn’t have much in the world and that made them hold on tight to what they had.

A _chunk_ near his head reminded Illya that THRUSH was still alive and well and looking to even the score.  He shot back, dropping the sharpshooter, and pushed deeper into the building as a mental clock ticked down the second.

He had but five seconds left when he spotted the hat, dirty and looking a bit worse for the wear.  He grabbed it and started back out, running with every last bit of energy that he possessed.

Illya exited the building and dove for a shallow ditch a scant second before the roar of the blast shattered the night.  He covered his head with his arms and prayed that the ditch was deep enough.

Debris rained down around him and Illya stayed quiet for a moment, waiting for the second blast.  It wasn’t as big, but it brought down everything the first explosion missed… which, granted, wasn’t much.

Once he was certain it was safe to move again, Illya climbed to his feet and began to stagger back to their hiding place.  They met him halfway and Napoleon grabbed Illya just as his knees sagged.

“You okay?  We were worried.”  Illya nodded and rallied, getting his legs to play nice again.

“Fine.  Mark, your hat.”  He tossed the fedora to the man and Mark hugged it to his chest, his eyes closed in happiness.

“All that fuss over a hat.  I just don’t get it.”  The fire flicked and momentarily reflected off Napoleon’s pinkie ring and Illya smiled.  Sure he did; they all did.  No matter what, they all had something that drove them on and kept them fighting the good fight.  He fingered the wedding band on his right hand and knew that all was right in their world again.

 


End file.
